It was still early, but the hallway was already loud. Yerime Mint held her phone while entering Room 2-B, her fingers tapping quickly on the screen.
"Wooo! One-fifty reads! Already!?" she squealed softly, thrilled.
She sat in the second row, fixed her bangs, tugged lightly on the ribbon of her uniform, then placed her inhaler on the desk—just in case. She opened her Wattpad draft again and smirked.
"Sorry, Earn, but Jake is way hotter," she whispered, laughing to herself as she scrolled.
By the window, a boy stood holding an envelope stamped Transfer Requirements. He leaned on the frame, head slightly lowered, like he was tired from a long trip. But when he heard:
"Earn keeps trying so hard, but he still didn't get chosen."
He froze.
Slowly, he lifted his head toward the classroom.
Yerime stood with one hand on her hip, laughing at her phone.
The boy frowned.
"…huh?"
"…isn't that… me?"
His grip on the envelope tightened.
"Where's this Yerime? The writer. The one who ruined my ending. If I find her—"
He scanned every student one by one. No one looked familiar. No one had "writer vibes" in his eyes.
Inside, Yerime glanced at the window. Their eyes met.
Her eyes widened. His glare was sharp—almost angry—but she had no idea why.
"Uh… hello?" she greeted softly.
The boy didn't answer. He just stared for a second, then straightened up quickly, like he also got startled.
Before Yerime could react, the teacher arrived.
"Good morning, class! We have a transfer student. Come in, please."
The boy stepped inside.
The room fell silent as he walked to the front. His posture was straight. His messy dark hair fell over a face that looked cold—no one could tell if he was just tired or carrying something heavy.
He stood at the center.
Looked at the class. Scanned again. Twice. Like he was searching for someone.
Then he spoke in a steady voice:
"David Cart."
He scanned the faces again.
Still nothing.
Then, in a low voice—barely a whisper, but clear:
"Where are you, Yerime…?"
He didn't know…
The person he was looking for was staring right at him.
And Yerime didn't know…
That the boy standing in front of the class
was the same character she made miserable in her novel.
Where are you, that villainous author? David thought irritably.
His fist tightened at his side.
A corner of his lip twitched with annoyance.
Just seeing you… I swear, I'll smack you.
"HE'S SO CUTE!" the girls in the back squealed.
David glanced at them briefly and paled.
In his mind:
No way any of them are my writer. Their bags are probably full of makeup kits.
He shut his eyes and let out a long, controlled sigh, trying not to let the rising irritation explode.
The teacher noticed and laughed to ease the tension. She pointed at the empty seat beside Yerime in the second row.
"Sit there for now, dear."
David nodded and walked toward his seat, head slightly lowered.
Class started. Chemistry. Everyone focused on the lesson—except David. His head remained down, not listening, completely lost in his thoughts.
I only know her name. How am I supposed to find her? That crazy author… she's the reason I didn't get chosen.
Deep in thought, he didn't notice a pen roll toward him and tap his new shoes. He reached down to pick it up—
—but he grabbed someone's hand instead.
A girl's hand.
He looked up—and froze when he saw her staring back at him.
She's… beautiful, his mind whispered as he tightened his hold on her hand. He shifted slightly to see her nameplate.
"Yerime."
David's eyes widened.
"Yerime?" he said slowly, staring straight into her eyes.
Then he suddenly yelled:
"Aghhh—YERIME!"
He jumped from his seat and pointed at her.
"YOU'RE YERIME?!"
Their classmates burst out laughing. Yerime's face turned bright red from embarrassment.
"W-what now!?" she yelled back.
"What do you mean what!? You're the—"
But before David could finish, a piece of chalk hit him.
"Quiet!" the teacher snapped.
"Mr. David. Out of my classroom. NOW."
David sighed in anger, shot one last look at Yerime, and walked out.
Just my luck, he muttered as he paced the hallway. I just need to get that girl's diary and rewrite my ending so I can go back—with a happy ending, too. But why is everything against me today?
Well, at least now…
I finally know what the girl ruining my life looks like.